


Virgo Sacrificium

by robinwritesallthefanfiction



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Language, Loss of Virginity, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-14 23:48:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9210611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robinwritesallthefanfiction/pseuds/robinwritesallthefanfiction
Summary: When a tricky spell causes a problem for Robin, John knows just how to fix it.





	

I slam the door behind me, reaching back to lock it, panting as John tears his duffel bag out from under the bed, fumbling through it for the shotgun. He whirls around, pointing it at the door, waiting for me to move. Instead, I sag to the floor. “It’s dawn,” I point out. “Their ritual has to be done at night. They’ll have to wait.”

John relaxes slightly, coming to sit beside me on the floor, still holding the shotgun in one hand. He puts his other hand on my shoulder, glancing at me, his eyes dark, his hair disheveled. Somehow the man always looks sexy as hell, no matter what he’s been through. “Are you all right?” he asks, his brow furrowed with worry.

I nod. “Clearly I need to go to the gym more often, but other than that, I’m fine,” I joke, pleased when he laughs and then smiles.

“What the fuck were they chanting? Could you make it out?” He sets the shotgun down and leans back, raking a hand through his hair and sighing in exasperation.

“Well, their pronunciation was bad, but it was Latin,” I answer. “Virgo sacrificium. Virgin sacrifice. I think it was some kind of locator spell.” I get quiet all of a sudden, hoping he won’t inquire further.

I should know better.

“How do you know that?” John wonders, looking at me again. I bite my lip, wringing my hands together, and he frowns. “Robin, honey, are you okay?” He reaches over and grasps my chin in his large hand, forcing me to meet his gaze.

“I’m fine,” I insist a little too quickly. He raises his eyebrows, waiting for me to continue. I exhale heavily, steadfastly looking away from him as I begrudgingly add, “I know because the spell hit me. It will probably lead them right to us tomorrow night.”

John is silent for a moment, and then he says, very slowly, “You’re a…?” I squeeze my eyes shut and grimace. When I open them again, John’s eyes are wide; he’s clearly shocked. “But you’re…”

I huff, pushing myself up from the floor and ripping my jacket off as I walk over to the bed. “Yes, all right?” I yell, embarrassed and hurt. “I’m a 32-year-old virgin. I’m sorry! But I’ve been running around with you for ten fucking years and you haven’t so much as looked at me, so what am I supposed to do?” I purse my lips and pinch the bridge of my nose between my fingers. “Fuck,” I whisper. “Why the hell did I say that? As if it wasn’t already bad enough.”

I reluctantly look up as John moves into my field of vision. He’s standing at the end of the bed, his arms crossed over his chest, staring at me intensely. “That’s what you’ve been waiting for?” he asks. “Me?”

“I’m sorry,” I apologize, my voice soft. “I don’t expect anything, John. I was 22 when we met, practically a kid. Not to mention stupid. I can’t help the way I feel about you, but I can be realistic about it.” I remember the night on campus when he’d practically run me over with his giant truck. He’d told me to stay in the cab and put my head down while he killed the werewolf chasing me.

“You were hardly stupid,” he reassures me. “You knew what was chasing you before I did. And I wouldn’t have solved the actual case I’d come to town for if it hadn’t been for your help.” I hang my head, my cheeks burning, and he steps closer to me. “I just…” He rubs the back of his neck and runs his hand up through his hair. “I never thought you’d want an old, washed-up man like me.”

I shake my head and finally meet his eyes again. “You know, John, you’re a smart, resourceful man, but you can be a real idiot sometimes,” I sigh. turning to face him. “I’ve been with you for ten years, John. I haven’t left your side. And in all that time, you’ve never noticed that I’ve rejected every man who’s ever made a pass at me. You’ve never noticed that while you’re drinking and looking for your next one-night stand, I’m nursing a Diet Coke at a corner table and doing your research. You just… never noticed ME, John. And that fucking hurts.” I press my lips together as hard as I can, trying to hold back my tears.

“I noticed,” John says quietly. “Believe me, I noticed. I was sure that you’d leave eventually. Each case was more terrifying than the last, but you still stayed. And I noticed you reject all those men. It’s pretty par for the course for a hunter to be offered sex in exchange for saving someone, but you never bit. I wondered. I did. Especially all those times that we couldn’t find more than one hotel room and you insisted that I not sleep on the floor, even though I always offered.” He pauses, as if debating what he’s going to say next, and then pushes on. 

“I’d watch you while you slept,” he reveals, stepping forward and smoothing his thumb over my forehead. “Do you know how peaceful you look when you’re sleeping with me? You burrow into my side to get warm and all the stress melts away from your face. And you put your hand on my chest…” He takes my hand and presses it over his heart. “…here, and curl your fingers into my shirt. When you look like that, I think about white picket fences and golden retrievers and mowing the lawn every Saturday morning. I think about being happy. But I don’t have that life in me anymore. This is all I have to offer you, and it’s far less than what you deserve.”

My expression softens. “John,” I murmur, tilting my head up to look into his troubled hazel eyes. “I’m not asking you for picket fences and golden retrievers and mowing the lawn every Saturday morning. I know it’s fucked up, but I actually like this life most of the time.” His smile is both amused and sad as he gazes back at me. I laugh briefly. “Okay, it’s not so fun when we’re dealing with a shapeshifter. They’re gross.”

He chuckles and I put my hand on his face, smiling at him. “I don’t need some Hallmark card version of happiness. Whatever you think I deserve doesn’t matter, because without you, it wouldn’t mean anything. It would mean gazing out a window every Saturday morning watching my idiot husband mow the lawn after I’d made him and our 2.5 kids pancakes for breakfast and having to admit that he doesn’t know what’s out there. It would mean wondering how many people were dying because I was ignoring what I do know is out there. And it would mean always wondering where you were, and what you were doing, and if you were safe. It would mean missing you so much that it would cause me physical pain. Do you get that?”

John reaches up, cupping my cheek in his hand. “So what do we do?” he asks sincerely, stepping closer and running his thumb over my lower lip. I breathe in deeply. We’ve been close before, but this time it’s different.

“Well,” I say after a moment of vague silence, “it would be nice not to be sacrificed tomorrow night, for starters.”

John laughs heartily at that. “Good plan. So you think the spell will lead them right to us?”

I nod. “Based on what I heard of the chant, they’ve marked me. It has to be me now; it can’t be anyone else. We might be able to find a way to break the spell, but we don’t have much time, and if we need anything out of the ordinary, it might not be enough.”

John frames my face between his palms, brushing his nose over mine. I grip his sides in my shaking hands as he fiercely whispers, “I am not going to let anything happen to you.”

“You haven’t let anything happen to me in ten years, John,” I reply. “I trust you.” I pause, biting my lower lip. He won’t like this suggestion, I know, but… “We could always leave town,” I remind him quietly. “Maybe if I’m far enough away…”

John shakes his head adamantly. “Then they might choose someone else. We can’t.” His dismissal doesn’t bother me; he wouldn’t be the man I’ve loved for the past ten years if he was willing to run.

“You’re right,” I agree. “There’s too much at stake.” I pause for a moment to think.

John’s forehead creases as he frowns. “Why aren’t they coming after us now?” he wonders. “I mean, why not just kidnap us and hold us until the ritual?”

“The light sensitivity, remember? Side effect of this particular brand of demon worship. Besides, if they’re being practical, storming a motel in broad daylight isn’t exactly subtle. As long as the locator spell shows them that we haven’t moved, they’re probably going to bide their time until it’s dark again.” I laugh in spite of everything. “You can’t make this shit up, I swear.”

John laughs with me, slinging an arm around my neck so he can pull me closer and kiss the top of my head. My arms tighten around him and I rest my face against his chest, breathing in deeply. I love his smell. It’s leather and gunpowder and grease from his truck, always tinged with just an edge of sweat and blood. Right now, it’s muted the tiniest bit by the scent of pine from our run through the forest. He trembles against me ever so slightly and then swallows audibly.

“Okay,” he starts. “So we take them out. But if they know where we are, that gives them the advantage. What we need is an ambush, because they definitely beat us in numbers.”

“Which brings us back to breaking the spell,” I say quietly. “I still don’t know if that’s possible.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” John says lightly, his voice deep and husky. “What if we thought of a more… creative way to break it?”

I frown. “What do you mean?” I ask, looking up at him. The corner of his mouth rises in a small smile.

“Well… would it work if you weren’t a virgin anymore?” he wonders, his voice very serious. I blink, feeling my cheeks turn red.

“Oh,” I answer, my voice barely a whisper. “I, um… I… don’t know if that… would… work,” I finally manage to stammer, my heart hammering in my chest.

John runs his thumb over my lower lip again. “Maybe not,” he says, bending his head until his mouth is almost brushing mine. “But it can’t hurt to try.”

His hands move from my face and shoulders to my waist; he bundles me against him, clearly waiting for permission. I twine my arms around his neck and manage to make my lips form three words.

“Yes, John,” I breathe, rising up on my toes to press myself closer to him. “Please.”

It’s all he needs.

I’ve imagined kissing John so many times, but my imagination was clearly inadequate. I make a noise in the back of my throat as his mouth covers mine possessively; one of his hands moves back to my face, his long fingers splaying out over my cheek, his thumb tugging on my chin gently. My lips part and he tangles our tongues together; I bury my hands in his thick hair and hold on like I need him to breathe.

In this moment, I do.

The kiss continues. It’s long and slow; John has always been a thorough man. I didn’t think it was possible, but he tastes better than he smells. I savor it, trying to memorize him in case I don’t get to experience this again. Bad diner coffee. Mint toothpaste. Hints of plastic and paper because he’s always ripping things open with his damn teeth, which is unbelievably sexy. It’s funny. I always thought he would taste like whiskey, but I finally realize that he hasn’t had a chance to drink any tonight.

When he finally breaks the kiss, it ignites something frenzied within me. I slide my hands into his jacket to push it down over his shoulders, my fingers fumbling as they move to the buttons of his shirt. John grabs my hands in one of his, pulling me close again to still me. “Robin, stop,” he whispers soothingly into my ear. I’m so used to obeying him when we hunt that I do so automatically now, breathing hard as I turn my head, my nose brushing his cheek softly.

“This is not going to be fast and rough,” he informs me. “We have all day, and I am going to make love to you like you deserve. I will treat you like a damn lady.” His voice is raspy as he says this, and when I shift against him, his words turn into a rough pant. I inhale sharply as I feel his erection pressing into my thigh through his jeans; clearly his body is not as concerned with what I know John thinks of as protocol as his brain is.

With great effort, he evens out his breathing, moving his hands so that he can trace my jaw with his fingertips. “Now I am going to undress you,” he breathes quietly, “and you are going to undress me. And every time that something comes off, we are going to kiss every inch of newly-exposed skin.” My eyes are wide and my stomach is fluttering with desire, but I nod to show him that I understand. “Good,” he sighs, his own eyes lidded with wanting.

Wanting me.

I feel giddy.

John turns his head so that our mouths are barely touching and says, “Now, let me start with what I can already see.”

I gasp as he lifts my hands in his, pressing a kiss into the center of each of my palms. He covers the insides of my hands with kisses, stopping briefly each time to suck on the spot where the base of my thumbs meets the rest of my flesh. “John!” I breathe. I’m shaking hard, and after he turns my hands over to kiss every inch of them all over again, he curls his own hands around my waist and lifts me up, rotating us so that he can sit me on the edge of the bed. When he kneels down in front of me, I smile shyly; he smiles back, leaning up to rain gentle kisses over my jaw, chin, and cheeks. He straightens more so he can reach my nose and forehead before kissing each ear, his hand tugging at my hair in order to release it from its’ simple bun. It falls in loose brunette waves down to my chin when he finally gets it free. 

When his hands move down to my shirt, I stop him. He looks up at me, concern etched into his features, and I stroke my fingers through his soft hair soothingly. “It’s my turn before you can take my shirt off,” I remind him. He smiles like he’d already forgotten.

“Right,” he nods, his voice rough. He settles comfortably onto his knees and holds his hands up to me. “Here.”

I kiss over his hands one at a time, my lips lingering in his palms just like his did in mine. When I reach each thumb, I suck the tip gently into my mouth and watch John carefully. He bites his lower lip and straightens up a little, brushing his nose against mine. I smile and keep kissing over his hand, but as my lips ghost over his wedding ring, I hesitate and pull back slightly, lowering my chin to my chest.

I feel John’s fingers under my chin; he raises it gently. “Sweetheart,” he says comfortingly, “it’s all right.” He reaches for the ring, slipping it off and putting it in the pocket of his jeans before cupping my face in his large hands. John may not be the biggest man I’ve seen in terms of size, but he’s tall and lean and solid, and there’s nothing I find more comforting than being surrounded by him. I slip my fingers around his wrists and start to speak, but he stops me by putting his thumbs over my lips.

“Robin, I know what you’re going to say, and you don’t have to,” he assures me. “I already know. You’re not doing anything wrong, and neither am I. We’re alive, and that’s not a crime. I’m with you now, sweetheart, okay? I’m right here with you.” I nod and he moves his thumbs aside so he can kiss me. This kiss is more insistent than the first ones were, like he’s trying to prove something.

When he pulls back, he offers me his hand again. “Would you like to finish?” he asks teasingly, and I smile, nodding. Once I’m done kissing his hand, I lean down and start kissing his face. I’m able to move down to his neck; unlike me, he’s not wearing a scarf.

I push his jacket from his shoulders as I press my lips eagerly against his throat, my tongue curling against the hollow at the base of his neck when I get there. I’m rewarded with a series of breathy gasps and moans; apparently I’ve found one of his sensitive spots. I tease it again and he groans loudly, his hand coming up to cradle my head just a little roughly.

“I’m not going to be able to keep my promise to go slow if you don’t stop doing that, honey,” John growls. I’m tempted to push him, but I stop, leaning back and reaching out to undo the buttons on his shirt. He stands up so I can finish, shrugging the shirt off of his shoulders. I stand up with him, pulling his head down to mine for another kiss and slipping my fingers under the thin fabric of his t-shirt.

John sucks in his stomach involuntarily as my fingers graze over it, and I briefly wonder if he’s a little self-conscious. He’s in excellent shape for a man his age; I can feel the layer of muscle beneath his skin. I don’t bring it up; instead I decide to show him how much I appreciate everything he has to offer. I begin dragging my fingers through the soft hair on his belly, and he growls again, deepening our kiss as I push his t-shirt halfway up his torso.

“Get on the bed, John,” I urge him suddenly. He doesn’t argue, stopping only to toe his boots off before he lays down, watching as I slip my own boots off and then crawl on top of him, straddling his thighs. I push his t-shirt up again, leaning forward to pull it over his head. I toss it aside and just look down at him for a minute before gently placing my hands on his sides. He folds his arms behind his head and gazes back at me.

“You okay up there, Robin?” he asks softly. I smile, dipping my head shyly and then running my hands slowly over his stomach, up to his chest, and then into his armpits to run my fingers through the hair there. He shifts a tiny bit underneath me. He has amazing self-control; I can see how hard he is through his jeans.

“You’re just so beautiful,” I finally say quietly, blushing a little. He looks up at me thoughtfully, propping himself up on one elbow and caressing my cheek with his hand. Before he can ask me anything else, all of my feelings bubble to the surface.

“I love you, John,” I say shakily, my voice barely a whisper. “I’ve loved you for a long time, and I’ve felt so guilty about it. I’m not asking you to love me back; I know that’s not fair. I’m just asking you to let me love you enough for both of us while it can last. You’re…” I take a deep, unsteady breath before I can continue. “You’re all I have, John.”

He sits up fully, untwisting the scarf from around my neck and dropping it the floor. When his hands move to my shirt, I raise my arms so he can take it off, looking down and to the side so I don’t have to meet his gaze. Thanks to hunting, I don’t weigh as much as I used to, but I’m still short and curvy with a few extra pounds packed away that I can’t seem to get rid of. I’m also wearing a plain, practical bra and underwear. I know that he’s just going to take it off of me soon, but it would be nice to feel pretty for once.

John’s hand slides up my chest to my neck, tilting my head back so that he can lean forward and press a wet open-mouthed kiss to my throat. I shudder and put my arms around his shoulders, burying my nose in his hair as his hands wander to my back and find the clasp of my bra. He flicks it open, but then holds it shut with his hands for a moment. His lips wander from my neck to my ear.

“Sweetheart,” he rumbles; I can actually feel his voice vibrate through his chest since I’m pressed against him. “I haven’t kept you around for ten years just because you’re a good hunter. Lots of people are good hunters. True, you happen to be an exceptional one, and you make my job a hell of a lot easier, but that’s not the point. I know why you feel guilty. Don’t. You understand what Mary meant to me, and I appreciate that, but you shouldn’t have to apologize for how you feel. I’ll never love you the same way I loved her, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love you just as much in my own way. I do. I love you, Robin. I want you in my life. Don’t ever forget that.” He pauses before adding, “Oh, and you’re a fucking knockout, so you can stop being self-conscious.”

I giggle happily as he kisses his way down my jawline, letting my bra go and slipping the straps down my arms. I gasp when his hands come back up to cover my generous breasts, his thumbs teasing my nipples into taut peaks as I writhe in his lap. I’m so aroused I can barely think straight, but I manage to push him back down on the bed before he can do more to me. I lean over him, kissing his mouth gently, my breasts brushing against his chest, and then I start to kiss my way downward.

I take my time, kissing over every inch of his chest, gently licking and sucking on his nipples when I reach them. He gasps, threading his hands into my hair and hanging on tight. I slip further down, running my tongue along the trail of dark hair that leads into the waistband of his jeans. His breathing is getting heavier by the second, and I look up at him as I slide my palm over his bulge and squeeze lightly.

John groans loudly and his hips buck up as I undo his belt and then the button on his pants, dragging his zipper down carefully. I tug the rough fabric halfway down his thighs, leaning down to kiss his erection through his boxer briefs.

John disentangles his hands from my hair and grabs mine as I start to peel his underwear down. “What are you doing, honey?” he rasps, his chest rising and falling as he breathes. I blush and bite my lower lip, shyly meeting his gaze.

“Something I’ve wanted to do for a long time, if you’ll let me,” I finally answer. John smiles and sits up, cupping my face in his hands and bringing me with him.

“You don’t have to do that,” he says quietly. “This should be about you, not me.”

“It is about me,” I insist. “It’s…” My cheeks get hotter and my heart beats faster as I confess. “It’s part of my fantasy about being with you,” I admit, dropping my head in embarrassment.

John pulls my head up, giving me a soft, sweet kiss. “Tell me the whole fantasy,” he requests, rubbing his nose against mine gently, “while I get the rest of our clothes off.”

“Okay.” I nod shakily, sitting on the edge of the bed as John stands, pushing his jeans down the rest of the way. As he pulls his socks off, I murmur, “It’s nothing very special, really. I’m sure that for someone experienced like you, it will sound silly.”

John smiles at me indulgently, kneeling down to take my socks off. He runs his fingertips over the soles of my feet and I shudder. “Tell me anyway,” he says, his voice deep. “I want to know.”

I twist my hands together before leaning back on my elbows so he can take my jeans off, flexing my toes nervously. John leans forward, hooking his fingers into my panties; they’re the only item of clothing I’m still wearing. He raises his eyebrows expectantly and waits for me to speak.

“I want to go down on you,” I finally blurt out, “until you’re so close that you’re panting with need. Then, when I crawl back up your body to kiss you, you flip me underneath you and take me slowly, drawing it out as long as you can until we both come together.” My entire body is flushed pink by the time I finish talking, and I close my eyes in embarrassment.

“Look at me, Robin,” John orders softly. His voice is somehow even deeper, raspy and gravelly, and I shiver as I force myself to look at him. His eyes are almost black as he gazes up at me. “Don’t be embarrassed,” he admonishes me. “I like your fantasy, and I want to make it a reality. But may I add something?”

I nod carefully and he stands. “Lay back in the center of the bed,” he says hungrily. I scoot back until I’m at the pillows, lifting my hair up before I settle onto my back, letting it fan out around me. John gets onto the bed on his knees, wrapping one of his large hands around my ankles and lifting them, tugging my panties up my legs with the other. When they reach my feet, he balls them up in his hand and tosses them aside, scissoring my legs apart so he can kneel between them.

His lips graze my ankle as he begins to kiss his way teasingly down my calf. When he reaches my knee, he licks the crease gently. I’m gripping handfuls of the beat-up motel bedding in my fists, and when he licks again, my breath catches in my throat and I moan softly. He chuckles and continues kissing his way down. When he reaches the juncture between my legs, he sucks the soft, sensitive skin at the very top of my thigh into his mouth, applying enough pressure to leave a mark.

“John!” I cry out, my hand fluttering to my mouth to cover it. He reaches up and guides my hand back down to my side, dragging his mouth over my hip and up to my breast. He kisses and licks gently around my tight nipple, flicking it lightly with his tongue. I can’t help putting my hands in his hair and arching my back to push my body closer to him. He hasn’t taken his boxer briefs off yet, but he’s still hot and hard between my legs as he sucks my nipple into his mouth, teasing the other with his long fingers.

I bite my lip, trying to be quiet, but when John nips at my skin with his teeth and twists my other nipple hard between his fingers, I groan loudly and tug on his hair. He releases me from his mouth with a wet popping sound, resting his chin on my breast so he can look up at me. “I want to hear you, Robin,” he informs me eagerly. “Don’t hold back.”

He moves his head to my other breast, repeating his teasing kisses and licks before drawing it between his lips and nibbling on it gently. I whimper loudly as he presses himself between my legs roughly, rubbing against me. “Sweetheart, you are soaking wet,” he growls, dragging his lips over the slope of my breast and kissing his way back down over my opposite hip. He sucks at my skin again, his pace slightly more rushed as he licks at my knee before once again arriving at my ankle.

My legs are quivering as he hikes them over his shoulders and sinks down between my thighs, his arms curled around my hips. “John…” I whisper shakily, my hands still working through his hair, “I…”

“This is my addition, honey,” he rumbles, parting the slick folds between my legs with one hand and taking a deep breath. “Mmmm,” he hums. “You smell good.” A squeak escapes me as he leans closer.

“John, I’m nervous,” I admit, looking down at him. He smiles.

“Don’t you worry about a thing,” he assures me. “You let me do all the work. I’m going to eat this pretty pink pussy and all you have to do is scream my name and come for me like a good girl.” He holds me tightly as my quivering intensifies, accentuating his words by rubbing his coarse stubble against the smooth skin of my inner thighs.

When he bends down and slowly drags the flat of his tongue over my entrance, my head tips back onto the bed and my toes curl, digging into his back. “Oh, John!” I pant heavily, trying not to manhandle his head too much. He chuckles against my skin.

“You can be rough with me, Robin,” he encourages. “I can handle it.” He drags his tongue over me again, harder this time; my hips buck up into his face and I breathe out harshly. When he slips his tongue inside me with his next motion, I twist unexpectedly and he holds me down. He’s surprisingly strong for such a lean man.

I tangle my fingers in his hair, pulling on it hard. He growls into me and I whimper, a sound that turns into a keening wail when he takes two of his long fingers and slowly pushes them inside of me underneath his tongue. My back arches off of the bed and I push his head down more firmly between my legs. He mutters something enthusiastically; the words are muffled, but I can feel the vibration of them through my body.

John pushes against my hands, slipping his tongue out of me and nudging himself up so he can twirl it around the sensitive little nub begging for attention at the apex of my thighs. When he starts to suck on it, I give in and scream loudly, gripping the back of his neck in one hand as my toes start to tingle. He parts his fingers, stretching me slightly as he buries them deeper. I clench around him as he sucks harder.

I can feel something building deep in my stomach. I’ve had orgasms before, but I can already tell that this is going to be an entirely different experience. John seems to sense that the tension in my body is rising. He lifts his head enough so that I can hear him say, “Hang on, sweetheart.”

Then his fingers are moving faster, sinking into me all the way to the base. At the same time, he increases the pressure of his tongue and mouth. I squeeze my thighs together around his head, rocking urgently as he flattens his palm against the small of my back and helps me arch against him. “John!” I wail, tugging on his hair so hard that I’m afraid I’m hurting him.

But before that thought even finishes running through my mind, I’m cascading over the edge into the most amazing climax I’ve ever had. I keep my eyes shut, hanging onto him like my life depends on it as I shake uncontrollably and pant out his name like a litany. He groans loudly, slipping a third finger inside me as I spasm around him, his name dissolving into incoherent noises on my lips when he curls his tongue to gently lick and suck me through my peak.

“John… John…” I finally have to push his head away because the sensations are just too much. He slides his hands back to my hips, lifting himself up as I gently stroke my hands through his hair, breathing hard as the last waves of pleasure ripple through me and I collapse in a quivering heap on the bed.

I’m not sure how much time passes before I can lift my head. When I do, I see John hovering between my thighs, his face slick with arousal. I blush, finally removing my hands from his hair so I can cover my face in embarrassment.

John chuckles and I feel him sit up; he gently pulls my hands away from my face, smiling down at me before leaning over to grab his t-shirt from the floor so he can wipe his mouth with it. “None of that,” he chides. “I don’t want you to feel awkward, or like you have to hide your pleasure. I want all of it.” I smile back shyly and he cups my cheek in his large, warm hand. “You shouldn’t be afraid, Robin,” he murmurs, smoothing his thumb over my lower lip. “Be bold for me.”

“Bold,” I whisper. My heart is still racing; the throbbing between my legs has subsided to a gentle ache. I just want more of him, so I think I can do what he asks. 

“Okay,” I breathe, reaching for him so he reclines over me and kissing him eagerly. My mouth opens naturally and I tug on his lower lip, sucking on it softly. He groans as I move to his upper lip while I flick my tongue against his teeth. I lay back completely, pulling him on top of me. He groans again, deeper this time, and grinds his hips against mine so I can feel how hard he still is. I gasp into his mouth as he tangles his hands in my hair and seals his lips over mine desperately.

I pull back, brushing my nose over his and rocking my hips up. I put my hand on his chin, tipping it so I can kiss his throat. “I can taste myself all over you,” I muse, running my hands over his sides. He shudders and I feel his cock twitch against me.

“That’s because you are all over me,” John pants. I can hear his self-control slipping when he speaks. “Do you like the way we taste together?” he groans, his breath hitching as I find the sensitive spot on his neck again. He uses all of his strength to push my head away from him and I chuckle, opening my eyes and gazing up at him happily.

“Sweetheart, I’m having a hard time hanging on up here, I have to admit,” he finally manages. I grin, rolling my hips against him playfully, and he takes a shaky breath.

“Because you want me,” I state proudly. 

He smiles in spite of his discomfort, then bites his lip and begs, “Please don’t tease me anymore, Robin.”

I lean up and kiss his throat one more time. “Get on your back, John.”

He falls onto the bed on his back, his hands resting on his chest. He spreads his legs so that I can kneel between them, but I push them together and lift them just like he lifted mine, tugging at the waistband of his boxer briefs. He reaches down and helps me push them over his erection; it hits his stomach as I pull the fabric toward me and jerk it over his ankles.

He spreads his legs again and I put my hands on his thighs, balancing there for a moment as I finally see him naked.

He’s lean and just the tiniest bit soft in his thighs and stomach, but otherwise he’s all muscle. It would be more distracting if all my attention wasn’t already focused between his legs. I’ve never seen a naked man before, and John is beyond gorgeous.

I trail my fingers up his thigh until I can gently cup his testicles in my hand. They’re tight with arousal, and they undulate under my palm as I touch them. John gasps loudly and his cock jumps eagerly; I know he’s been waiting patiently, so I don’t linger long.

He seems big to me, but I have no point of comparison. I wrap my hand around him lightly, stroking him. I’m surprised at how soft his skin is, and at how much heat is radiating from him. He pulses gently in my grasp, and there’s fluid leaking from his swollen head. I slide two of my fingers over where it’s pooling, smearing it over him. My lips are barely an inch away from him, and his long fingers twine through my hair, shaking as he fights to not pull me forward.

I rest the flat of my tongue at the base of his shaft, licking up as slowly as I can manage, my free hand caressing the dark nest of curls between his legs. He tastes like skin, and like how he smells, and I’m intoxicated by it. When I reach the tip of his cock, I suck it into my mouth, dipping my tongue into his slit.

The sound that escapes him startles me. It’s low and deep and guttural, and his hands finally take control, pushing my head down. I open my mouth wider so I can swallow more of him.

As I take him in as deep as I can, I’m shocked at how good it feels; while I’d always imagined doing this to him, I hadn’t thought that it would feel or taste so good. I inadvertently moan around him, feeling the sound vibrate up and down his cock; John shakes and pants loudly, and I realize that he can’t take much more, as much as I want to keep tasting him.

I shift my hips, realizing that I’m soaking wet all over again, and suddenly, I want him inside of me. I swirl my tongue over the tip of his cock as I bring my head back up, crawling over his body until I can wrap my arms around his neck and lean heavily against him. “Hey there, sweetheart,” he greets me, breathing hard, sliding his hands down to my waist and holding me against him.

“Hey,” I answer. I’m trembling. He slowly flips me over; I can feel his whole body quivering as he lowers himself between my legs. He slips one hand between our bodies, guiding his cock to my entrance and tracing my lips with his aching, throbbing head. His face is almost pained as he pauses.

Before he can say anything, I take his face between my hands, drawing his head down to mine. “I’ve waited ten years, John. Don’t make me wait any longer. Please…” We kiss each other, slowly but desperately, clinging together on the bed like our lives depend on this moment. 

I suddenly remember that all of this started with trying to break the spell and realize that mine might.

But right now, I couldn’t care less about a spell. The only thing I can see is him.

“Make love to me, John,” I beg. He nods against my lips before claiming them again, and I gasp as my body begins to open up when he pushes inside of me.

He slides in fairly easily because I’m so wet, but I still feel unbelievably full. I squirm beneath him; once he’s about halfway in, he shifts his arms so that one is braced against the bed and the other grips my shoulders. He rests his forehead against mine, just barely brushing our lips together. “Look at me, Robin,” he requests; my eyes flicker open.

John holds my gaze as he pushes into me the rest of the way. I don’t have a hymen for him to break, so there’s nothing to resist him except for the repeated clenching of my muscles around his thick, hot length. When he bottoms out, I whimper, fighting not to shut my eyes. I run one of my hands down his side and then back up, raking my fingers through the thick, dark hair of his armpit before sliding it up his back to grip his shoulder. I bury the other in the hair at the base of his neck, my legs curling around his, my toes pressing against his calves.

“Is this okay?” he asks quickly; I can tell that he’s resisting the urge to move. “Are you all right? I’m not hurting you?”

In response, I move my hips experimentally underneath him. He gasps, only just managing to keep his own hips still, letting me test the feeling. “Honey, please!” he pleads. For a moment, I can’t speak. Even though he’s on top of me, I know I’m in control, and having this beautiful, commanding, indomitable man at my mercy makes me dizzy with delight.

“I love you, John,” I finally reply. “Don’t hold back, please.”

“I love you, Robin,” he breathes excitedly, and then he’s slamming his lips down on mine, kissing me roughly, his tongue mimicking the movements of his cock as he begins to vigorously thrust in and out of me. I hang onto him as tightly as I can, letting him rock me back and forth with the weight of his irresistible body. It’s not long before I can tell we’re both close; our bodies are slick with sweat and we’re panting loudly into each other’s mouths.

John slows his thrusts and I start to gasp his name, feeling my body ready to spill over the edge of pleasure again. Somehow I can tell this orgasm is going to be even more intense than the first, especially because I know that this time, he’s going to peak with me.

“John!” I cry against his mouth. All of my muscles tighten around him and my body arches up into his as he slides all the way into me once more.

“I feel it, sweetheart; you don’t have to tell me.” He bites down on my earlobe and growls into my ear. “Come for me, Robin. Fuck, I want to feel you come around me so much.”

His words push me over the edge.

I thought my climax before was amazing, but it’s nothing compared to this. Maybe it’s because he’s deep inside me, filling every inch of me. Maybe it’s because the ridges of his cock are running over a soft spot inside of me that makes me tremble uncontrollably. Maybe it’s because the instant that I clench around him, he starts to come, his warmth filling me up. In the end, why doesn’t matter. It’s unbelievable, and I concentrate wholly on that feeling as we writhe together.

He keeps thrusting as we both finish, our loud, incoherent noises filling the room.

As the last spasm moves through my body, I gasp loudly, gripping John tight. “Oh!” I yelp in shock as I feel a magical frisson move down my spine; when it reaches the base of my back, it snaps, receding into the warm afterglow of John collapsing on top of me, soothing my aching muscles with his heat.

John cups my face in his big hand and looks down at me apprehensively. “The spell?” he asks.

I nod. “I think so. I’m fine, John. Don’t worry about me.” I stroke the hair at the back of his neck soothingly and he relaxes into my body.

“I always worry about you,” he says very seriously, pressing a kiss to the corner of my mouth.

I smile up at him. “I know.” He chuckles and we kiss again. I start to speak, but John keeps kissing me and the words stick in my throat for a moment. When he finally pulls away, I tell him breathlessly, “Thank you, John. That was the most incredible thing I’ve ever felt.”

He gazes at me, and I can actually see the love in his eyes. I blush and he grins; his dimples take years off of his face. “I’m glad,” he murmurs. “I love you.”

“I love you,” I respond, sitting up as he rolls off of the bed and wanders into our tiny motel bathroom. He comes back out with a wet washcloth and cleans me off, then tends to himself.

I grab a clean pair of panties, slipping them on before I take one of John’s worn button-down shirts from his suitcase and snuggle into it, breathing the smell from the collar in deeply. I throw him a clean pair of boxer briefs, which he catches neatly in one hand, and we both move around the room, checking to make sure all of our normal protections are still in place.

Once we’re both satisfied, John sets the shotgun by the bed while I turn the covers down. He arranges the pillows so they’re leaning against the center of the headboard before he settles in, holding out his arm to welcome me into his side.

I sigh as I curl up against him, finally realizing how tired I am. I rest my head on his shoulder and he wraps his long arms around me. I’ve slept with him like this before, but now it’s more intimate.

“You look good in my shirt,” he teases, kissing my forehead.

“I know,” I quip, running my hand through his dark chest hair. “You look good without it,” I add, pressing a kiss over his heart.

He chuckles and then falls silent, his hands moving over me soothingly. “Everything’s going to be okay, Robin. I promise.” His voice is heavy with sleep, and I yawn, shutting my eyes and relaxing completely into him.

“I trust you, John,” I remind him gently. “I love you.”

He presses one more kiss to my hairline. “I love you.”


End file.
